


All I Want For Christmas is You

by kinglyace



Category: Death Stranding (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff, Holiday, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, M/M, romcom, rot your teeth sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21633796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinglyace/pseuds/kinglyace
Summary: Sam Porter Bridges just wants his first holiday season with his daughter to be perfect, but between his demanding sister and the rough hours at work, it's hard to make ends meet and also enjoy the holidays. So it's only by chance that he runs into Mort "Deadman" Coeur, the new hire at his sisters company. No, he doesn't believe in love at first sight and certainly not around the snowy season. But maybe, it's time to open up their little family to another member.
Relationships: Sam Porter Bridges/Deadman
Comments: 10
Kudos: 93





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: It's a holiday tradition to watch cheesy, terribly acted holiday romcoms with my mother and predict every single plot. They're my self-indulgent mess of tropes tbh and I want to spread some fluffy cheer with DeadSam! And no one can stop me so prepare to have your teeth rotted out from the sweetness.

The heat inside his delivery truck is weak, the vents barely spitting out enough air to keep him from freezing through his several layers of clothes and uniform. The snow outside is frightful, a constant eddie of white fluff blowing across his windshield and piling on the lawns and in the ditches around him. He wishes that he’d splurged on the nice wool gloves, but it was that or the babysitting fee for the end of the week. With no one to watch his young daughter during the early morning delivery route, Sam Porter Bridges is stuck scrimping and saving for daycare money.

Luckily, the end of his shift is in sight. The truck clock blinks red, a hazy 2:45 gazing back at him from the dash. He only has two more stops left, and then he’s reunited with Lou for the extended weekend. Not that’s really excited about Thanksgiving, but at least he has a baby as an excuse to dip out from the family gathering. 

He pulls into the long winding driveway of the nicknamed “Engineer”, passing under the swiveling cameras and up to the modest home hidden between a thick grove of trees. Sam delivers here nearly every week, the same load of heavy materials and tools. Luckily, the Engineer is waiting for him from the garage. He waves at Sam happily, looking like a puffy pink marshmallow in his winter gear. Sam can’t help but smirk just the tiniest bit.

“I was worried you got stuck in the snow! I can’t thank you enough for getting this to me before turkey day,” the Engineer gushes as Sam pulls up and opens up his door. He helps offload the heavy packages and offers Sam a stiff drink for his troubles.

“Sorry, gotta finish my route. I’ll see you next week though.”

The snow picks up as he makes his way down the road and past the old school building to where his oldest client waits, the “Elder” of his route. He’s almost to the mailbox when his phone rings, buzzing away in his pocket. Sam fumbles for it, trying to keep his truck straight as a rough gust of wind pushes against him. It’s the daycare for some reason and fear momentarily grips Sam as he answers it. Was Lou okay? Had the daycare lost power because of the snow? 

“Hello?” He doesn’t hide the worry, his free hand kept in a death grip on the steering wheel. Only the worst runs through his head at the unexpected.

“Hi! Sam Bridges right? We just wanted to call and remind you that pickup is supposed to be 3:30 and not the usual 5 because of the holiday. It’s an extra $50 per hour she stays after that,” the cheerful tone of the babysitter reminds him and Sam barely stops himself from swearing out loud. It’ll take too long to drop off his truck and then go get her, and he doesn’t have the extra cash to afford the late pickup fee. But there’s nothing to be done, other than slightly break the speed laws.

“Thanks, I’ll be there,” he gruffly returns before hanging up in frustration. He presses down on the gas a little harder than he needs to, watching the road carefully as his last stop comes into view. The Elder doesn’t make an appearance as Sam stops by the mailbox and hurriedly shoves his bundle of mail and packages in, as per usual. There’s maybe the slight shift of curtains to indicate life within the tiny house but, for the moment, Sam doesn’t care. He speeds off the moment the mailbox is closed, muttering under his breath about crappy daycare times.

The depot is busy when he pulls in, full of personnel getting ready to switch trucks and shifts. It takes Sam forever to find a spot to park, and even longer to drop off his bag and keys. Everyone wants to leave and enjoy their limited free time, but Sam doesn’t have time to stop and chat. He brushes past the other posties without so much as a mumbled ‘hey’, ignores their dirty looks and muttered claims of “how rude” with the weather and time working against him.

It’s 3:55 by the time he speeds into the packed driveway of “Lil Rainbow Daycare”, no other car around save for the house owner’s. He can see the sitter through the front bay window, rocking Lou in her arms and bag by the door. His face burns as he makes his way up the deck and through the door. The sitter smiles at him but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Mr. Bridges, how nice it is to see you. Little Lou here missed you,” she says sweetly enough, passing off a dozing Lou to him. Relief washes over Sam as he holds her little body, easing the knot in his stomach.

“Sorry, it was busy at the depot. Can you just… I really can’t afford the late fee this week,” he pleads but the sitter only shakes her head, the fake smile still firmly in place.

“I understand Mr. Bridges, but I can’t just waive the fee. It’s there for a reason. I know the holidays are tough, but the rules are rules.”

He forks over the last of his cash and decides that a stop to the coffee shop might be in order.

~~

Mort “Deadman” Coeur is lost. Absolutely and hopelessly lost. He walks into the coffee shop to save himself from the cold, teeth chattering as he wipes off the small piles of snow on his shoulders. His feet are nearly numb from walking through the city for hours and his coat is soaked from the driving wind and slush. He really should have taken a cab instead of trying to find the office himself.

At least the coffee shop is nice and warm, the smell of cinnamon and cream thick in the air. There’s only a couple other patrons in the little shop, a man and woman taking up a narrow booth and another man with a baby sprawled across a lounge seat. He’s an attractive, if definitely rugged and worn, man somewhere in his thirties. Deadman can’t help but smile as the man tries to rock his fussy baby, who refuses to even touch her bottle. It’s cute, and makes him wish he’d had his own kids a few years ago. Ah, oh well.

It’s not until Deadman has his own tall order of a sweet mocha latte that said baby is starting to shriek, face red and clearly unhappy as their father tries to juggle them and now ringing phone. He looks frustrated and tired, almost ready to fall asleep in his seat. The other patrons only shoot glares at the poor father and purse their lips in quiet judgment as the baby cries. Won’t offer to help but merely look on as a father struggles. So Deadman makes the executive decision to act, to be the Good Samaritan.

“Do you need a little help? I can’t imagine trying to juggle a baby is very fun,” Deadman offers, his voice only shaking a little. He has a hard time just striking up casual conversation, much less going up to a stranger and offering his assistance. He must look like a creep, honestly. 

The father definitely gives him a suspicious look and he holds his child closer to his chest, and Deadman can’t blame him. But the phone shrieks again and whoever is on the caller I.D. seems to make the man more frustrated than his crying child. Deadman can see the gears turning in his head, weighing whether or not to accept the offer of an extra pair of hands.

He comes to a final decision quickly when the baby shrieks again at the top of their lungs, right in his ear and Deadman winces. The poor man is just at his wits end.

“I just need a couple minutes. Just… stay right here,” the father nearly growls at him. Deadman can’t tell if he’s trying to threaten him or is just that tired. Either way, Deadman only nods in understanding. 

“Of course, of course!” he splutters, setting down his own drink as the man carefully and gently passed over his baby. They stopped crying almost immediately, wet eyes going round and one hand reaching out to grab at Deadman’s neatly trimmed beard. The father almost looks offended at how quickly his own baby had quieted. 

“Traitor,” he mumbles before finally answering his phone and stepping to the side. 

The baby is enthralled by Deadman’s beard, little fingers wrapping in his salt and pepper hair to give an experimental tug. It doesn’t hurt, so Deadman only chuckles and awkwardly bounces in place. He vaguely remembered seeing that tactic on T.V.

“I think your father would like a break, little one. Especially with the holidays just right around the corner,” he says to the baby, who only gurgles back at him and pulls on his beard again. 

The man comes back within a few minutes, looking flushed with embarrassment.

“Thank you for watching her, my sister doesn’t understand how to leave a voicemail when I don’t want to talk to her,” he grumbles, taking back his daughter. Deadman only smiles in understanding back.

“I’m happy to help! Families can be tough to deal with this time of the year.”

There’s an awkward pause, the father trying to get his daughter settled in his arms and pack up his bag again.

“Uh, I’m Sam by the way. Really, thanks for helping. It’s been a rough week for us both,” the father finally introduces.

“It’s no problem! And I’m Mort, though most people just call me Deadman. A little on the nose for a medical examiner I think but well, I’m not the one who came up with it!”

Deadman is delighted when Sam smirks just the tiniest bit, though he hides it behind his daughter’s head.

“Well, I hope the rest of your day is less eventful! And I should find my way back to my new job before they think I’ve been kidnapped,” Deadman jokes. 

“Where do you work?”

“Ah, I’m supposed to start at BRIDGES today but I got a little lost on my way there. I’m not used to such a big city! I feel like a rat in a maze,” Deadman admits and Sam nearly smirks again.

“Just take a left and another left three block down. You can’t miss the giant sign.”

“Oh! Thank you so much!” 

“No problem.”

They split ways after that, Sam going to the right and Deadman turning left to make his way to the start of his new life. He can’t help but turn and try to catch one last glance of Sam, but he’s already disappeared into the crowd. His heart drops a little, but Deadman tells himself it’s alright. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll see him again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadman gets to know a coworker and discovers that the city isn't as big and cold as he thought it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It is 1am as of posting this, I rewrote this section at least three times because I wasn't totally happy with how it kept turning out. But I'm done! For the moment! I really need to go to sleep earlier.

The BRIDGES tower looms darkly over every other building in downtown Capital Knot, the neon all the brightly lit fast food chains and modernized offices, windows few on it’s dark grey faces. The logo, a spiderweb strung across the U.S. continent, glared down at Deadman as he stood at the front of the building. It had been where Sam said it would be, planted between the 1920’s historical district and the new industrial park. Snow was beginning to fall harder, piling up in great mounds on the road side and threatening to engulf Deadman once again. He couldn’t put it off any longer, no matter how much his stomach churned at the thought. He took a deep breath, let it coil in his chest, exhaled, and then walked through the automatic doors.

The lobby was posh, recessed lighting cast a soft glow over a marble reception desk and plush chairs scattered across a white floor. It was nearly empty, quiet save for the faint chime of holiday music in the background. Many of the employees had already left for their Thanksgiving break and the few stragglers left were mere hours away from freedom. Even the receptionist looked checked out as he approached, balancing a pen on their finger and yawning.

“Ah, hello?”

“Do you have an appointment?” 

“Uh, Dr. Mort Coeur? I’m the new medical examiner and I’m supposed to-”

“Take a seat, the guide will be down in a minute,” the receptionist waved him off, pressing down on some button on their display. Deadman sheepishly shuffled over to a large chair and lowered himself down, wincing as the metal legs slightly groaned. He wasn’t usually so self-conscious but everything about his new workplace screamed perfection and fakeness. Maybe it was only the lobby that looked like this, a convincing mask for the mess behind it.

A nearby elevator dinged and Deadman swiveled, catching sight of a grumpy looking person with hastily pulled back hair and wearing bright red medical scrubs. They waved Deadman forward, casting an annoyed look at the receptionist.

“Dr. Coeur, nice to meet you. I’ll introduce you to staff that’s here and show you the lab. I’m Cross, I’m a floater for most of the medical departments,” they introduce as the two of them entered the elevator. Cross hit a button labeled BF5 and the doors slide shut, soft instrumental kicking on as the elevator began to descend downward. 

“Sorry for the not-so-warm welcome, everybodys either left for their early weekend or are chomping at the bit to go home. Kinda weird to see you here today actually. Would think you wouldn’t come in til Monday,” Cross chatters and Deadman can only awkwardly chuckle back.

“Well, President Strand insisted I get to Capital Knot as soon as I could and… I honestly didn’t have much to unpack.”

“I get it. Well, welcome to BRIDGES and Capital Knot. At least the holidays are always fun in the city.”

Cross shows him through the entire sub-basement floor, state-of-the-art equipment stacked from floor to ceiling. It’s all chrome and silver, polished to a near mirror like shine under bright white LED lights. Deadman’s office is bigger than his old one, no window but outfitted with a large desk and comfortable chair. It’s at the end of the quiet hall, only joined by two small offices meant for assistants. His lab work area is spacious, five slabs neatly lined up and trays of ready to go tools locked inside a tall cabinet. Like everything in Capital Knot, it’s so much bigger than the tiny town he’d come from. 

“You doing anything for Thanksgiving?” Cross asks once they’re done showing Deadman around. Deadman only shrugs.

“I don’t have any family and you’re the second person I’ve really talked to today. I might just have a quiet day at home, I think.”

“Well, if you feel like it, I’ll be at the local Denny’s. They’ve got a killer lunch menu!”

Deadman felt himself smile, a pleasant tingling settling right above his stomach. He’d never had such nice coworkers before. Maybe moving to the big city had been a good decision after all.

~~

The apartment, usually a bastion of his privacy and comfort felt like a cage at the moment. A pile of laundry taller than himself was staring at sam from the couch, while dishes sat piled in his sink and Lou cried in his ear. He couldn’t figure out why she was upset and the constant shrieking was making his brain numb. He’s down to his last clean pair of sweatpants and hoodie, but the milk stain on his left leg is glaring at him. This wasn’t what he had in mind for Thanksgiving at all. It felt like he was slowly suffocating, and there wasn’t any air left.

He barely heard a knock at the door, jolting him briefly from his daze. He wanted to groan as he checked through the peephole- it was his sister, Amelie.

She was dressed in her usual red dress and pumps, complemented by a matching coat and hat. She looked bloody pristine against the snow and dying bushes, a paragon of perfectionism. 

This really wasn’t what he wanted.

“I forgot how...cozy your apartment is,” she remarks upon entry, gently shrugging off her coat and folding it over one arm. It’s not the worst Sam’s ever lived in, as far as one-bedroom apartments went. Okay sure, his apartment is currently a wreck but it’s not the worst apartment. It’s relatively clean (when he has time to clean it) and out of the ground, and warm enough for him and Lou. 

Amelie smiles when she sees Lou though and reaches out to gently caress her cheek. Lou quiets immediately, but only so she can try to burrow into Sam’s shoulder with her face. She grabs a handful of his hair and pulls, whining her displeasure in his ear. Amelie only looks mildly disappointed at Lou’s refusal.

“You know, there’s still plenty of positions open at BRIDGES. You could afford a better place downtown, always be home on time, and… not have to worry about keeping up with the everyday,” Amelie gently suggests..

“I’m good,” he mumbles and she sighs back, shaking her head.

“Sam, I just wan-”

“Pretty sure you didn’t come here to offer me a job I don’t want.”

Amelie’s words die on her tongue and she bites her lower lip, seemingly apologetic.

“I’m sorry Sam, you’re right. I’m just worried about you and Louise, all alone here. I miss you Sam.”

Sam shifts in his spot, tilting his head away and not meeting her pleading gaze. He knows why-- the last time they’d spent more than an hour face-to-face was six months ago at their mother’s funeral. It’s not entirely his fault, really. Things had just been so busy and complicated. Was it so wrong he wanted to be left alone, just for a little while?

“I know you aren’t fond of the big family dinners, but I think we should spend some time together. It’s Thanksgiving, no one should be alone. So why don’t we go out to lunch together? My treat.”

“No, it’s fine Amelie. I have a lot to do here,” he begins to protest as he backs into his apartment. He doesn’t have the energy to deal with her, much less today.

“Sam, I-”

“It’s fine Amelie.”

She leaves before it becomes an argument, though he knows the texts will come rolling in soon. She was never good at taking no for an answer or letting the subject drop. But he watches her drive off from the apartment building through his living room window for now, swaying in place as Lou begins to fuss again. The room feels colder somehow and the mess around him more intimidating than before. He needs to get out, just not with Amelie.

“Let’s go get something warm to eat Lou.”

~~

The Denny’s was packed Thanksgiving Day at noon, warm from the crowd of bodies and hot food. It smelled divine, all fat and comforting grease to make the mouth water. The chatter was loud, a roar of laughter and delighted shrieks that filled Deadman’s head to the brim. It was nearly impossible to hear the waitress over the din, who was trying to juggle handling the cash register and new guests.

Deadman spotted Cross at a small booth who was hunched over their coffee and about ready to doze off. They perked up as Deadman approached, nearly knocking over their glass of water.

“Dr. Coeur, glad you came!”

“You can just call me Deadman out of the lab Cross...er, do you have a first name?”

“Nah, Cross is fine. It’s kind of my brand to be cooler and more mysterious than everyone else in the lab.”

Deadman doesn’t stop himself from laughing at Cross’ goofy grin and Cross only seems to smile wider at him.

“See, I’m also the funny one.”

“Oooh, so you’re the resident clown?”

Cross looks perfectly fake insulted and only scoffs at Deadman.

“Excuse you, I’m far better than a clown!”

It doesn’t feel so much like small talk with Cross, who takes the lead when they can to guide the conversation. They fill him in on all the current office drama between the engineering and programming departments, which sounds more like a sibling rivalry than anything.

“You said you got lost yesterday? Why didn’t you just take a cab?”

“I wanted to see the town myself, but sadly I’m not used to such a big city yet! Ahah, I am very thankful to the handsome man who gave me directions.”

Cross’ eyebrows shot straight up and a devilish smile danced across their lips.

“A ‘handsome’ man, eh? One day in the city and you’re already casting a net?”

Deadman tried to hide his red face behind his mug of coffee, but Cross only kept grinning and goading him on.

“He was a very nice man out with his kid! He gave me some directions for helping with his daughter. All I know is that his name is Sam!”

“Awwww, that’s so cute! You never know, maybe you’ll see him again!”

They kept chatting for awhile until the waitress came back, harried and trying to juggle a tray and pot of coffee.

“Cross darling, do you mind sharing your table with one more customer? It’s too packed here to sit the poor guy by himself,” the waitress asks, popping up from nowhere with a pot of coffee in her hand.

“Do you mind Deadman?”

“Not at all!”

“Bring ‘em over Martha. The more the merrier!” 

“Thanks darling. I’ll sit him and then be back to take your orders!”

Deadman watches as Martha weaves back through the maze of tables and patrons back to the register. She stopped to talk to a man holding a bundled up baby in his arms… a very familiar man. Deadman choked on his coffee, sputtering and feeling his face burn as the man started walking towards them.

“Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“T-that’s the man! The one I was talking about!” Deadman coughed into a napkin, trying to dab at the quickly forming stains on his red shirt. Oh, the odds of seeing him again like this had to be astronomical!

Cross looked up as Sam approached, confusion briefly sliding over their face before they broke into a grin.

“Oh that’s-”

“Cross, should have known you’d be here,” Sam cuts in first but Cross only shakes their head with a smile.

“I’m surprised you haven’t been here already. Hey, quick question, have you met my new friend here?” 

Deadman feels his face turn red as both Cross and Sam turn to look at him. Lou lifts her head to see him and immediately starts to giggle, one hand reaching out to grab him again.

“Yeah actually. Deadman, right?” 

“Y-yes! Yes, that is… my nickname.”

He wants to crawl under the table as Cross barely hides a gleeful snicker and Sam sits down next to him. He notices that Sam sits on the edge, almost afraid to even brush elbows despite the cramped space. 

Sam looks more tired today, the bags under his eyes more pronounced and the lines around his eyes a little deeper. He almost seems sluggish as he settles Lou into the provided high chair at the end of the table. It makes Deadman want to wipe them away with his thumb, do something to ease the tension coiling between Sam’s shoulders. His whole body seems coiled and ready to flee, despite being among those he recognized.

Deadman’s face flares red and he tries to hide it, busying himself with a plate of food in front of him. It tastes good, but it doesn’t distract him enough. He just can’t help but keep glancing to Sam as he and Cross talked. 

“So Sam, how’s work been? They’re paying you extra for the holidays right?” Cross asks, catching Deadman’s attention. Sam only snorts as he spoons mushy food to Lou.

“I wish. We don’t have nearly enough people for the routes but damned if they’ll pay me more.”

That peaked Deadman’s interest. “Routes?” 

“I’m one of the local mailmen. You know, no matter the weather and everything. Not the worst job I’ve ever had, but could pay better.”

“You know, since you’re so familiar with the city Sam, you could give Deadman here a tour. Y’know, make sure he doesn’t get lost again.” 

For the second time Deadman chokes on his coffee and Sam can only muster a suspicious stare at Cross, who only looks back with an innocent smile.

“I mean, GPS is a thing in most phones…” Sam starts but Cross shakes their head.

“Oh come on, you know those things aren’t 100%! And let’s be real, here in Capital Knot there’s too many streets named the same thing, and confusing turns and it’s just better if he gets a first hand account! And I’m terrible with driving, so I can’t do it,” Cross laments, placing a hand over their chest and sighing.

“You can’t be that bad,” Deadman says, trying and failing to keep the nervous pitch out of his voice. Sam scoffs and shakes his head.

“Cross has 24 points on a license they don’t even have. They’re pretty much banned from even touching a vehicle that isn’t an electric scooter.”

“Right! My little moped isn’t the best way to see the city! C’mon, I’m sure it’d be more fun than looking at the little dots on his phone!”

Deadman wasn’t sure if Cross was helping him or not anymore, but there was no politely running from the situation. Sam was sitting next to him and busy feeding his daughter, had him effectively trapped.

“...sure.”

Cross’ jaw nearly hit the table and Deadman could hardly believe his ears at the sound of Sam’s quiet acceptance.

“Holy shit, really?”

“Yeah, if you pay me $50 and watch Lou. I’m tired of paying extra at the babysitter.”

“Well, there you go Deadman, a personal tour of the city! Now you won’t get lost next time!”

“Well, only if you’re truly okay with it Sam! I wouldn’t want to impose…” Deadman sputters but Sam only shrugs.

“Really more of an imposition on Cross. Little gremlin can lose $50 and some free time.”

“Baby sitting Lou is never a loss of my free time! But $50? I would’ve gone to a $100!”

Deadman feels light as they sit and crack more jokes over their meal even though the blush never leaves his cheeks and he can’t believe this is really happening. It all feels like a dream.

He doesn’t even notice when Sam scoots just a little closer and his shoulders ease a fraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I swear the super sweet stuff is coming, I just made the mistake of thinking going to Denny's was cute... well it is to me. I miss going to Denny's, there isn't one nearby where I live now! :(

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Holidays are rough and exams are breathing down my neck but I swear I'm going to continue because I love wholesome DeadSam.


End file.
